Market Garden writeup
|Date||20th – 22nd October 2017|
|Venue||Lima Bravo, Eethen|
|Players||Rocket, Mr P, Hamster and Hammertime|
|Hangers on||Assorted Lima Bravo crew at certain points, Saik, Myrth|
|Result||When UE and Lima Bravo party, everyone loses|
Holland is a country made of tall people who deep fry cheese and ride bakfiets without irony. In 2015, UE led an expeditionary force to test the boundaries of foreign diplomacy and liver tolerances. This trip ended up in successfully, with minimal deaths and only 13 pregnancies. Thus, in the spirit of the international relations, UE ventured to the land of the cloggs once more.
UE made their way using the Hook of Holland ferry route. Despite arriving there early, we were the last to board due to some no doubt brexit related red tape... Or disorganisation; it could also be that. Either way, we found our way onboard and decided to crack on with what we do best.
A short argument followed, and we realised that we do literally nothing well, and even then, what we do best is debatable. We elected to sit around and play computer games. This offered a unique opportunity, as for once we would not be crushed by 12 year olds cyber-bullying us so much we cried. After some fun, and when we finally caved into the computer beating us, it was time to start crying. Being so close meant that we could all hold and comfort each other in an embarrassing yet warm mess; very much like the brexit negotiating team currently are doing.
After arriving we quickly got to our diplomatic duties. We stopped in a delightful local restaurant called McDonald's, and to prove our dedication we ignorantly pointed at pictures of food and waved the local currency at them like strippers.
We then jumped in our vehicle and made our way to the Valken top secret storage facility where we loaded up on boxes of paint and generally were fodder for industrial accident risks. Unfortunately there were no injuries, despite playing spijkerpoepen with flashbangs and paint cans.
After some equipment fannying we jumped back into the van and made our way to the Limp Bravo site. We were joined by Brexit (the UE player, not the ongoing diplomatic incident), Chris, Reinier as well as the two now regular locals Saik and Myrth.
Hugs and coffee followed; Reinier then took us out into a damp field with bows and arrows. We proceeded to play dodgeball, or dodge arrow in the rain. Despite the unrealised threat of injury, this was a lot of fun. Obviously due to my classic physique and youthful clothing I was able to pursue the traditional UE approach of just being irrationally aggressive and using alleged speed.
After some possibly illegal close-quarters bow aggression, I won. This demonstrated my prowess to the world. Following this victory, I feel that life will change a lot for me... For example, it will definitely stop the kids near the corner-shop drawing cocks on my car while I go and fill up on ready meals for one.
After some introductory warm up beers, Reineir took us to a local restaurant. They served a decent selection including high quality vegetarian and vegan food. This has literally never been heard of in the history of UE, let alone UE abroad. Unfortunately, the usual hippies were not present. To make them feel at home, we sent them multiple pictures of the menu, explaining how fucking stupid they were for not coming.
UE is brotherly love in action.
After some more beers and general stupidity, we retired to bed.
There was a relaxed start, with most of us surfacing around 11am.
After driving all that distance, it only made sense to actually play some paintball. Some of Limp Bravo showed up, as well as a decent collection of locals and klingons. There were far too many to name; or thanks to my superior and definitely not Alzheimer's riddled mind, remember. The atmosphere was relaxed with players rolling in and out of games as they desired. This was top quality walk-on paintball, and there was lots of laughter and new friends made.
There were some short intense 4v4, 3v3, 2v2, 2v2v2, 1v1v1v1v1v1v1 action. Games types included Deathmatch, Capture the stick and creep around the jungle until it gets dark. There was also a completely one sided 'Exports Universal negotiations' themed game. UE had no guns, and 26 players from assorted countries lined up and fired full auto at us with no mercy. In fact, many other nationalities watched this, with some actively helping. However, all laughed at us constantly. The more astute of them then started to steal our valuable paintball equipment in the ensuing chaos ensuring we were an ineffective team for at least 100 years.
At this point I'd like to raise something. It will save us both a tedious, embarrassing and protracted conversation at the next scenario game. You will comment on the brutal game in Holland. I will then have to explain what the words actually mean.
Within the domain of the UE website, it is a shame to have to break character and point out that that was political symbolism using satire, but that's how stupid you all are.
So, after an afternoon of high intensity paintball, I won.
After the games, there was a quick clean up, and the light closed in. The evening was spent talking movie quotes, getting set on fire and eating fresh BBQ Vegan food. This was also dutifully pointed out to the missing tree-huggers. Rumours are flooding about that several of the team actually had a beer, but I cannot confirm or deny this statement.
There was a relaxed start, with most of us surfacing around 11am.
Sadly the weather had closed in, and any paintball was off the cards due to heavy rain. Reinier had a backup plan, and for once it wasn't to smoke constantly, eat stroopwafels and talk about the army. He took us to the local bowling alley. Obviously we immediately set up a Limp Bravos v UE bowl off.
Bowling is a so-called sport played by drunk or hungover people. Usually there is a subtext of escaping family or personal responsibility. It's typically played by overweight men who are one bacon rasher away from a complex and debilitating medical episode.
Paintball is totally different.
Paintball is a so-called sport played by drunk or hungover people. Usually there is a subtext of escaping family or personal responsibility. It's typically played by overweight men who are one bacon rasher away from a complex and debilitating medical episode.
After a tooth and nail contest of skill and professionalism I won! Reinier vowed not to take this lying down and challenged all of UE to an Air Hockey contest. This only lit the fires of UE, where we recorded a win loss record as follows:
|Team||Win||Draw||Loss||Amount of times player shit themselves|
After a recount, it emerged that I won once again!
After this humiliating defeat Reinier directed us to the Hook of Holland seafront restaurant quarter as he stomped off sulking through the car park puddles muttering something in foreign.
The sea air was cold. In fact it was bracing; even a Geordie would have worn a jacket.
The restaurants all had the individual table-fire vibe. We eschewed the free-fire option as Hamster had not
don't touch all shiny things training and opted for an old fashioned wood table. This
would ensure he could gnaw on in times of angst, and that the fire wouldn't scare the more northern
After some munch, and before we knew it was time to leave. Using our special 'David Davies papers' we paid an extra £90 to leave the Netherlands (Thanks Karl). It was time to get back to gaming and crying; my M26 Pershing was trashing Mr P's anti-tank defensive line as we floated back to good old Blighty.
And no, we're not talking about sex.